


Dead in the Morning

by shutupeccles



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupeccles/pseuds/shutupeccles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin’s in the dungeon awaiting execution. Arthur comes to yell at him, Merlin yells at him to come, and all that good stuff that comes with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead in the Morning

Merlin opened his eyes to immediately reconnect with Arthur’s as commanded.

“Hello again,” Arthur huffed.

“Hello,” he replied groggily as Arthur shifted the weight on his arms to continue moving within Merlin at another angle.

As much as the warlock wanted to hold the prince’s gaze, as much as Arthur insisted he needed him to do so, Merlin wanted to memorise his entire face. His eyes danced from the movement of Arthur’s sweat-heavy hair to the bright flush of his skin; the play of expression displaying how wonderful Merlin felt around him, against him, beneath him; the shapes made by his cheeks and lips as he panted, grunted and moaned.

Merlin felt his eyes roll back “ _uhnha_ Arthur, yes” as Arthur hit a previously undetected sweet spot, causing him to raise and wiggle his hips higher “ _YES, YES_ ”, attempting to help him hit it again “oh _again_!”

“You’re i _ncredible_...I want to do this to you _forever._ ”

“ _Ooh_ , please do...”

“ _Unh_ , the way you _mooove_ , god like _THAT_ , uh _more, more_...”

Arthur’s elbows dug into Merlin’s chest as his hands moved to hold Merlin’s head while he rested their foreheads together and announced his imminent arrival. His eyes were now all Merlin could see. His words swept across Merlin’s breath.

“Coming Merlin, want to come so far up you Merlin you **_taste_** it.” 

“Do it,” Merlin’s back and arse found a position that gave maximum penetration and pleasure as he bounced up into Arthur’s thrusts. The sounds of their bodies colliding and pulling apart echoed through the straw-filled cell. “Come on Arthur.”

Arthur grunted with each thud against Merlin’s cheeks. Merlin felt his heavy sack bump against him and found the sensation as thrilling as the internal pressure and the friction of Arthur’s Merlin-cum-sticky abdomen against his earlier emptied cock.

“Do it, do it, come, come, _ooh_ I’m ready for you, _Arthur!_ ”

Despite the lack of nerve-endings inside his passage Merlin was convinced he felt the full load shoot into him like a liquid crossbow bolt as Arthur’s eyes closed, his fingers clenched in Merlin’s hair and a long, loud “ ** _Uaoh_** ” forced its way out.

Merlin angled his head to stick his tongue in Arthur’s exclaiming mouth before the sound of his climax ended and wriggled beneath him some more.

“ _uh-uhuh—uoh_ Merlin. Oh _god_. I don’t want to stop.”

“Me either.”

Arthur shifted his weight again without pulling completely out so he could kiss and caress a larger portion of Merlin, all the while they continued to move slowly together.

“I’ll stay; we can keep going until they come at dawn.”

“They’ll kill you too.”

“Better to die with you than live without.”

“Don’t be daft. Everything I've done will be meaningless if you die. Besides I won’t be dead Arthur, not really. Unless you die too, I can come back.”

“Even if that were true it won’t be the same.”

“Nothing could be the same as this.”

“If I’d known...”

“No regrets.”

“I love you.”

“I know, or you wouldn’t be here.”

As Arthur’s lips manipulated his, Merlin remembered his royal rage as he descended the prison stairs to dismiss the guards.

“He’s my servant, my responsibility. My Father demands that I stand watch alone.”

The way he’d yelled at Merlin and the length of his first tirade reduced the captured warlock to a crumpled pool of tears and convinced the guards the prince had no intention of setting him free. They had not returned after the second devastating, more personal verbal rampage lest that wrath be turned on them. Even bold Sir Leon, he who stood up to King and Prince alike, left the disgraced manservant to his fate. Hence none had been present to see their prince eventually rest his head against the small, barred square in the hefty door, tear streaked, pleading “why?” as he reached a hand into the cell in an attempt to coax his friend back from the abyss of self-loathing despair.

Arthur held no more anger toward Merlin. It had all been released in the tides of abuse, the warlock had felt it rise, crash and dissipate. He reached a shivering hand in return but the chains sunk in the wall prevented contact by an arm’s length.

Arthur unlocked the door, entered the cell and locked it behind him.

“Merlin, don’t stop. If we keep moving we should be able to do it again.”

“My back hurts.” He’d somehow ended up scraping his thinly clothed back against the bare stone floor and wedging his head against the straw piled up against the wall. 

“So do my knees. These leggings are buggered.”

“So am I.”

Their husky chortles ended in a gentler kiss.

“How much do you think we can bugger before they come for us?”

“For me.”

“They’ll take me too when they find me here with my cock in your arse.”

“Mine in your mouth you mean.”

“Mmm”

Despite his hormonal high, Merlin was astonished when Arthur immediately began enthusiastically tracing hands and lips all over him, especially as he had to practically crawl up under Merlin’s sweaty, spoofy shirt to do it. The chains linked to his wrists rustled in the straw and clinked together as he tried to bring his hands down.

“I’m really starting to love that sound,” the prince’s voice was muffled between shirt and skin. 

“Mmm _-ooohh.”_

“But not as much as that one.”

Merlin found it difficult to focus on sounds at present. His skin was so electrically alive that the tactile sense dominated all others to the point where his mind replayed earlier textures.

The straw was so distractingly spiky beneath them as they sat and talked that Arthur had shoved it into a pile against the wall so they were upon bare stone. That was so cold and rough they both complained of frozen privates and Arthur left the cell, nabbed a large woven banner from the wall where the guards usually sat and came back in.

“You came back?”

“Don’t state the obvious Merlin. Lie down and get comfortable on that,” Arthur had made a pillow of his jacket for Merlin’s head but instead of resuming the conversation silently stared as he lay on his side with his head supported by a braced hand. 

Merlin pushed up to face him, wondering what was going on. As he began to ask what was on Arthur’s mind the prince began to turn away and rather than ask a question, Merlin whispered “I don’t want to die.”

Arthur turned back and Merlin bestowed a short, inexpert kiss. 

“I don’t want you to.” 

The return kiss was not so hesitant or dry. Arthur’s lips were cracked and firm on the surface but when his mouth moved Merlin felt the damp softness and tasted the inner Arthur. 

From mutual emotional turmoil had arisen adrenaline-charged lust. Merlin was amazed Arthur could still be going after the awkward beginning that became a torrent of exquisite sex. True, Arthur had always been a man of action rather than words. Yet the way he’d hammered Merlin was also poetic. The eye contact thing for a start...Merlin’s eyes drifted closed as Arthur used one fingertip and the very edge of his tongue to slowly, gently coax his cock back to life. 

The soul of the man who was his destiny ran a lot deeper and was more complex than Merlin had ever suspected. That’s what Arthur was to him now, here at the end; not master, friend, obligation or even lover—Destiny.

And that Destiny meant death.

He was going to die in the morning. True, he was immortal so this death wouldn’t be permanent but still...Arthur stopped.

“Merlin, what’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid,” it was pointless keeping secrets from him now. It had been stupid all along.

Arthur returned to eye-level, adjusting the banner and jacket beneath his shackled servant on the way. The roughest edge of Merlin’s dread was smoothed by the almost maternal gesture. The position of Arthur’s body as he entwined their limbs was most definitely not maternal. Through his fear Merlin was still aroused by such contact.

“You will not die alone,” Destiny’s kiss was as serious as his expression. “I refuse to let that happen and you know how persistent I am.”

“Stubborn,” Merlin gasped as Arthur’s hand began to do wondrous things between Merlin’s legs.

“Determined,” he insisted, studying Merlin’s face as he continued to tinker. “You should wear that expression more often,” he breathed proudly, “it suits you.”

“Arthur, _ohh My Lord_!”

“Respect at last,” Arthur grunted deep in his throat, “If I’d known all it took was this...”

“Oh My lord!”

“I would have done this...”

“Lord my _Lord!_ ”

“...to you every day.”

Merlin lorded him some more, as much a result of his own pleasure as a method to increase Arthur’s who now rested his head on Merlin’s chest to hear his heart, breath and voice echo. The attention Arthur was paying him with every part of his body inflated more than Merlin’s ego.

“You’re a miracle,” Merlin murmured and Arthur looked not just at him, but into him.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Merlin became lost in the warmth, pressure and taste of their kiss. Their position on the floor meant there was not enough give in the chains for him to clutch Arthur’s hair and he wanted to. He needed to.

“Let me touch you.”

They shuffled and scuffled closer to the wall, dragging their protective banner with them onto the straw. Arthur was so blatantly casual about it all that Merlin stopped more than once to watch in wonder.

“What?”

“You’re normally so...inward about feelings and intimacy and stuff. You’ve been different since you came back,” Merlin still considered him coming back a miracle in itself. “Is Arthur dead outside the door? Are you some doppelganger sent to tempt me in my final hours?”

“Stop rabbiting on like an idiot and help find what you did with my clothes in case someone comes looking for me.”

_ Nope, it’s truly Arthur _ Merlin thought as he clanked his chains to remind the incredibly sexy prat he undressed himself and then he noticed how much Arthur really did love the sound. He did it again, loudly. _Hoo-hoo, look at that!_ “Come here where I can hold you.”

Arthur forgot about the importance of close-at-hand-pants and obeyed. Merlin turned him so Arthur’s back was to his front and Arthur wrapped his forearms around Merlin’s, grabbed his wrists and trapped himself in the ellipse of Merlin’s embrace. 

Merlin’s need to touch him became extreme and he pulled Arthur close while pressing his hands across, around and down. Merlin kissed Arthur’s neck and felt his cock bounce in his hands as he reached a certain spot.

“God Merlin.”

He experimented with rhythm and tempo while sucking that spot and concluded from the recurring jolts against his hands that yes, this particular point on Arthur’s neck was hard-wired directly to the princely knob. Merlin used combined powers of lips, tongue and hands to bring Arthur to the brink of harshly calling his name before he stopped all motion to whisper a command in the panting prince’s ear.

“Come for me.”

He didn’t have to move a muscle. The words and the delivery sent Arthur over the edge and his hips pulsed as he filled Merlin’s hands with an astonished almost-howl. Merlin experienced incredulous raptures. _He_ had said _that_ to _Arthur_ like _that_ and Arthur had done what _he_ told him too. _What else can I make him do?_

“Grab my chains, no further up, there. Lean against me and pull back. Harder.” Something knotted in Merlin’s shoulders and neck from Arthur banging him on the floor came undone and a subtly pleasant unwinding sensation travelled from the source to the top of his head, tips of his fingers and most surprisingly pleasant of all, the cleavage of his behind. His relieved sigh caused Arthur’s shoulders to slide against his chest. He faked another one and while Arthur reacted, it wasn’t as good as the original. Merlin was still happy to discover that all his noises got Arthur off – big time. _Let’s make some more noise then._

Merlin pushed Arthur forward by arching his back, flipping his hips and twisting his wrists. Arthur’s grip on the links was compromised and they clattered as Merlin murmured “hands and knees”. Arthur began to turn but Merlin pushed a hand on each shoulder so he’d get the point. Metal scraped stone, metal and skin. Arthur knelt, leaning back for a kiss.

“You’re beautiful like that.”

Arthur began to protest but stopped when Merlin rested a palm on each side of his face and molested him with his eyes. Arthur was used to being assessed like a potential stud bull, Merlin knew he sometimes enjoyed it but he had never before seen those blue eyes widen, melt and shine all at once like that in response to any other appraisal. 

Merlin desired him more than the next breath. He ran his shackled hands down either side of the exposed throat and kissed him from above, softly growling Arthur’s name as he did so. Hands clasping Arthur’s throat, Merlin stroked his tongue down Arthur’s bare back. Arthur fell forward onto his hands in the cloth-covered straw and Merlin moved his hands down Arthur’s chest then side to his hips as his mouth continued to charter spine and then buttocks. Perhaps Arthur’s buttocks were connected to his ears because every soft metallic clink caused them to twitch. Merlin flicked his wrists to set them clattering and watched Arthur’s muscles react for a moment before resting his cheek against him to feel him quiver. He kissed then licked the curves in front of him. Arthur reflexively dipped and opened his legs with a surprised exclamation and Merlin licked him properly.

“ _Oh god_!” 

Arthur’s head ducked and his hips lifted. Merlin grabbed him and licked harder, flicked, explored and then probed. Arthur reached a hand back and placed it on the back of Merlin’s head—he did not press, simply rested it there and breathed “more, more, I can’t _believe_ you... _oh_ Merlin, **_more_**...”

His voice was like cool misting rain on a sun-baked day. Merlin understood Arthur’s earlier determination to hold back as long as possible; he didn’t want those sounds and the associated sensations to end. Merlin kept twisting his tongue in and around Arthur until it was sore and Arthur’s shower of words became a hailstorm of monosyllables then slid bodily up his back, hands ghosting up to his shoulders – again Arthur quivered against him at the metallic scraping – as he whispered:

“Sit on me Arthur. Ride my lap until the sun comes up.”

It was apparent that if Arthur could have orgasmed again he would have. They shuffled forward; Merlin rested on his haunches, hands on Arthur’s hips, leaning back to watch Arthur wrap a hand around his fire-hot prick and guide them together. After a couple of awkward false starts they hit on the right direction and the prince, still wet and relaxed from Merlin’s prolonged tongue play, slowly opened further to let him in.

“Slowly my Lord...can you, slowly...look at, _ooh_...you feel so...my Lord... _my god_...”

“So hot...unh _hard_ oh and loonng...”

“...up, up...ooh **down**...left... _ohh...”_

“How, God Merlin—so **_full_** , ghow did you move like that...ohhoh with me inside you, you move so...”

“Like this?” Merlin wriggled beneath him.

“Unh-uh, yes, yes, God you’re incredible, _incred_ ible...”

“Ride it Arthur, forward and ... _whooh_ yes, like **_that_** , oh _like_ _tha-ha-haat!”_

“Go-ho-humrln, Ghunmf, huh-huh...”

“...oohm ride me, ride me Arthur, god...”

“...uh-huh—oh...”

“..slower, awwhuh don’t want, not yet, oh my Lord, my Lord, don’t want to come yet,” Merlin minimised his wiggling, god it was difficult. Arthur felt so strong and hot around him he wanted to swivel and thrust, plunge and twist until he turned inside out and followed his climax deep into Arthur’s body. _Don’t think of...that...hold on, hold on, make-this-last...nope, can’t..._

“Impossible,” he moaned pathetically then repeatedly panted “come on,” he was urgency embodied now. 

Arthur grabbed the now taut chains and used them to help push and pull. “Oh god,” they chanted in the round, praying for more, to be joined on the brink of ecstatic release for eternity until

“My Lord!”

“Fill me Merlin,”

“Lord Arthur,”

“Come inside me like I did for you,”

“Bend over,” he pushed forward, raised Arthur’s hips and plunged in.

Arthur’s arms collapsed and his shoulders pushed into the straw as Merlin drove as hard and deep as he could. Arthur growled long and low only to yelp sharply as Merlin found and angle that reached previously untouched places.

“There Merlin, go, go GO!”

“Want-die-withyou-aroundme, letmepumpyoutilmyheartsstops-gdgdgdgdgd-god almighty Arthur what you **do** to me, you’re killing me!”

Merlin’s orgasm was wrenched out of him with a scream of soul-deep pain, knowing this was the end of their intimacy, of his life, and because even if he weren’t sentenced to death he would never be the same again.

Arthur garbled something devoid of meaning beyond the moment, tried to lift his shoulders and adjust his legs then gave up after two failed attempts. Merlin eased them both flat onto the coarse fabric of the wall hanging (Arthur would have some friction burns he would have to explain away to his new servant during the daily dressing/undressing ritual, Merlin was heart-sore that someone else would do that while gleefully triumphant that someone else would see them and remind Arthur of what had occurred) then lay along Arthur’s sweat-slick back, shrinking inside him and kissing whatever he could reach without moving.

He wanted to say: _I’ve never known anyone like you Arthur. I’ve seen you burn brighter with each passing year; soon you’ll outshine the sun. I want to live long enough to be blinded by your light_.

Instead he said “I hated lying to you.”

Arthur turned slightly beneath him, shifting a hand to hold Merlin’s. 

“We’ve been through that. No more anger or regret between us. I won’t let you die hating yourself,” Merlin moved in order to kiss the dry, determined mouth properly. “You brought me out of the lie that was my life and into reality. Without you, I wouldn’t understand the people I’m responsible for. Be proud of that.”

Merlin hugged him and caressed him with his lips some more.

“I love you. Remember that. Not because of your title, but because of how you’ve learned to use it. The man beneath the crown,” Merlin rolled Arthur over and kissed him with what little energy remained, “I”-kiss-“love”-kiss-“you”. 

“How will I live without you? Who will let me be myself? Who will I laugh with as well as at?”

He felt gratitude, affection, love, farewell and sorrow in Arthur’s response. It made Merlin want to cry.

“Just live and I’ll find a way to return.”

Before cold crept too far under their skin Arthur suggested finding their clothes. Garments had been scattered, scrunched and some of them thoroughly spoofed upon but Arthur gathered them all without complaint. He dressed Merlin first, chatting gently about nothing as Merlin normally did when performing this duty for Arthur. The reversal both lightened and weighed heavy in Merlin’s heart. He would never do this for Arthur again—someone else would be his servant, perhaps his protector and friend. That Arthur cared enough to do this, while remaining exposed himself no less, meant more to Merlin than any words of solidarity or comfort.

Once the prince dressed himself they shifted straw, jacket and banner to form a pathetic bed. Arthur ensured Merlin was as comfortable as possible under present conditions before positioning his body around him for warmth. 

They fell asleep nestled together to be woken by the predawn carolling of birds closely followed by jostling chain mail and footsteps pummelling stone stairs.

“Prince Arthur—Your Majesty—your father is dead,” Sir Leon announced with compassionate urgency, face pressed against the small, barred window of the prison-cell door and obscuring his fellow knights.

“It wasn’t Merlin. I remained by him since...”

“I made no such accusation Your Hi-Majesty.”

Merlin saw by the knight’s expression he had never considered Merlin a suspect although he was present when Uther announced his execution for practicing sorcery.

“How? When?” Merlin asked, placing a sympathetic arm around Arthur’s shoulder. 

Instead of pulling away and frowning “what do you think you’re doing?” Arthur looped an arm about Merlin’s waist and leaned into him, needing the physical and emotional support.

“Stabbed repeatedly, Gaius believes soon after midnight. Supposedly such crimes are perpetrated by persons with close relationships to the victim.”

“Our Prince Arthur never left the dungeons!” a criminal in a neighbouring cell called adamantly. 

Arthur and Merlin exchanged wild-eyed glances of “we weren’t alone”, “oops”.

“He closely guarded that prisoner all night,” a voice proclaimed from the other side, a hint of merriment edging his words.

“If only all Camelot’s guards were so dedicated...”

“I dunno, I reckon I’d reoffend if...”

“Thank you for vouching for me,” Arthur ventured before their innuendo became so obvious an elderly wilderin would see the picture, “although I’m sure Sir Leon was not implying I committed patricide.”

“What?” One of the witnesses was clearly confused.

“Leon’s not saying Arthur did it, killed the king...” Merlin explained.

Morgana’s voice preceded her descent into the dungeons.

“I demand Merlin’s release! I have proof of his innocence. False allegations were made against him to undermine King Uther’s authority and place Prince Arthur’s life at risk. The murder of the king would have been prevented had this family’s most diligent servant been able to perform his duties. Even when condemning him to death Uther commented on Merlin’s devotion to protecting your king.”

“Your Majesty?” Sir Leon asked.

“Lady Morgana has no reason to lie in defence of a servant, especially one that is not her own. I agree that Merlin could have prevented this tragedy as he has prevented others in the past and consent to his release.”

Arthur unlocked the door so Leon could unshackle Merlin.

“Ensure he is bathed, fed and properly clothed before returning him to his quarters,” Arthur began instructing his knights.

“Gwen and I will take care of him for you Arthur.”

“Thank you Morgana,” he turned back to Sir Geldred, “I must speak immediately with Gaius and those who discovered this crime against my father.”

What? Arthur was handing Merlin over to the women? “I’m not a girl! They are not seeing me naked!”

Arthur turned to murmur in his ear “Morgana and Guinevere can be certain to allow you to wash yourself where male servants will most likely follow orders to the letter and thus find evidence of how you spent the night. Do you really want fellow staff knowing?”

“Good point.”

“You’ll be back on duty this evening as though none of this happened so get some rest,” Arthur’s normal bossy tone returned although his hand lingered on Merlin’s shoulder before the party of knights escorted their new king up the stairs.

“That’s three you owe me Merlin,” Morgana laughed as she led him away a safe distance behind.

“What?”

“Firstly: for poisoning me although I understand why you did it, you still should have told me the nature of my involvement. Second: for convincing Arthur to confront you all alone in your prison cell.”

“You mean...”

Morgana nodded with an impish smile.

“We knew if given the opportunity the two of you would finally,” she laughed again, “honestly, watching the two of you dance around each other may have been entertaining at first, but it went on so long it was driving us to distraction.”

This was too much. Hang on...“What’s this third thing I supposedly owe you for?”

Morgana pushed him into her rooms where a rose scented bath steamed behind the red curtained screen, and locked the door behind her.

“For killing Uther of course,” she whispered, “Don’t look so surprised. When faced with the choice between Uther or you and Arthur there was only one option. Get in the bath, I promise not to look. Don’t make me tell Arthur you’re being unco-operative,” she sat on the other side of the screen while he obeyed so she could continue talking. “Now we’re completely free. You and I don’t need to fear witch-hunters, Arthur can interrogate you as rigorously and as often as he likes before it’s chronologically appropriate to take a wife. Once he’s married it will have to stop but until then Gwen’s quite happy to let the two of you...”

Merlin wondered if perhaps Arthur had run him through with his sword after all as Morgana and then Gwen prattled around him. This was far beyond strange, even by Merlin standards.

That evening when Arthur loved him again in his comfortable bed and invited Merlin to sleep beside him not just for that night but every night in their immediate future, Merlin decided that even if he weren’t actually dead, he was definitely in heaven.


End file.
